


and you're branded into mine.

by myladybrienne



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Idiots in Love, Internal Monologue, Oblivious, angsty as fuck, d&d would never, only implied
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-05
Updated: 2019-05-05
Packaged: 2020-02-26 18:32:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18722608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myladybrienne/pseuds/myladybrienne
Summary: just angsty drabble abt jaime thinking brienne doubts his loyalty ... not ready for ep4 am i





	and you're branded into mine.

Jaime still hated the inescapable cold this far North.   
  
He was born and raised in the warm winds of the south, with no idea that the sky could turn to white and collapse over his head with such force. Winterfell offered no respite from the snow, it’s tall walls were strong and thick, but not quite weatherproof. The only relief a man could get from the frost was at the hearth.  
  
The Queen and her counsel had been hidden away for days. It was a time of great change, the victory of their fight against the dead was muddied by the undying threat of Cersei’s armies. No opportunity to consider their options. The remaining forces were hurried along in their recovery and as soon as they could bear arms, they were deemed fit. Podrick was not yet among them: he had almost lost his head to a wight and he struggled to regain his strength.   
  
But Jaime knew that the boy would survive. Watching him fight so valiantly had confirmed that. Whenever he went to visit him in the abstract infirmary they had constructed in the Great Hall, Jaime could see the life that Pod would have once the fighting was done and he had half a moment to realise just how much of a man he had become.   
  
Brienne had been a more difficult patient and had taken sanctuary in her quarters, away from the prying eyes of the overcurious. She was a Knight of the Seven Kingdoms and her honour had gained a new layer of integrity that she endeavoured to protect almost as fiercely as Lady Sansa. The healers had been in and out of her chambers every day though nobody dared ask what ails kept her to the confines of her room.   
  
“Ser Jaime,” she said. Her voice was worn, scratching against her red, raw throat with each word. “I’m pleased to see you recovered.”   
  
She always concerned herself with his welfare. “Still bloodied and bruised but I got off lightly compared with most. Where have you been hiding away these past days?”   
  
“I chose to recuperate in solitude. The camaraderie of the battlefield oft hurts my head and I took rather a blow. Sleep has become something of a hobby,” she admitted.   
  
The fire was burning, hot and overwhelming. The bruises that could be seen on every inch of her bare flesh were an unnerving array of yellows and purples and greens. At the edge of her hair was a dark, gruelling bloom of purple that spilled behind the bright blonde locks. The mere admission that Brienne was injured was enough to worry anybody, most of all, Ser Jaime.   
  
“My brother has been keeping me informed of the Dragon Queen’s plans, and within the week, she intends to march for the capital. I fear her urgency will do more harm than good, but it is not my place to say such things. I mention it only for the sake of Pod, who remains bed-bound and unable to fight.” The words were quiet, private between just the two of them in a hall of five dozen strangers. Odd to call men who had faced death together strangers but they were nothing more than that. Nobody paid them any notice and Jaime wondered when he had proved himself unworthy of the concerns of cannon fodder.   
  
“The longer she is given, the stronger she will get,” Brienne said.   
  
“Fighting with my sister is not a matter of war. We don’t need to kill every soldier she has paid and break down every defence she has built. The only one who needs to die is her, and she cannot make herself immortal,” he uttered.   
  
“We?”   
  
“I kept her alive all these years. I killed her enemies and I did her deeds and I let her play me like a fiddle. She’s my responsibility.”   
  
He watched the flames and wondered how many she would burn before the war was won. Cersei’s fascination with wildfire made him shudder. She had given into the charms of power and it was enough to turn his stomach. If her behaviour wasn’t already unforgivable, the Sept of Baelor had been the point of no return.   
  
Brienne barely recognised the man she’d held captive. _A truly changed man,_ she thought.   
  
“She’s your sister. Nobody expects you to, Ser Jaime.”   
  
“It’s nothing to do with her being my sister. She’s Tyrion’s _sister._ She’s the mother of my children and the first woman I loved and the worst thing that ever bloody happened to me and I know that better than anybody in this damn castle. If we lived in another time I might say she’s dead to me, except she isn’t, because I spend far too much time thinking about just how to make that true!” Colour rose in his cheeks. His tone was rich with a hot temper. “I _hate_ her. If I can be the one to put my blade through her chest then I will. She burned men, women, and children in a place they believed to be safe, she keeps her people under nothing short of a dictatorship, she asks those who serve her to do the most despicable things. Doesn’t that remind you of another that I swore my loyalty to, Brienne?”   
  
People were watching now. There were eyes on the pair of them. Nobody had the nerve to even breathe audibly. They just watched.

“Ser Jaime, your loyalty is never in doubt, not by me. I only mean that it would hurt you to injure her, and nobody demands that sacrifice of you. You’ve proved yourself to anyone that matters,” Brienne said. Her voice was low, trying to reclaim some privacy for a moment.

 Jaime’s hand reached for her forearm. Nobody had greater faith in him than she, and he was entirely aware of it. She remained steadfast under his touch, eyes trained on his as though the dozen onlookers weren’t there at all.   
  
“I will fight under your command unless you order me to do otherwise. You _know_ where my loyalties lie, Brienne.”   
  
Her chest tightened. _With his brother. With the living. With honour and loyalty and good._ The sensation of his fingers on her arm, even through the leather of her jerkin, began to burn though she knew she was imagining it. Discretely, she dropped her arm, though he still glanced down in confusion that might have thought looked like hurt.   
  
 “You are a good man, Ser Jaime,” declared Brienne as though it wasn’t already fact.   
  
Their audience began to dissipate. People were unfazed by the tension between them now. Everybody was entirely aware of the situation and they had tired of it.   
  
“Not good enough,” he mumbled, barely audible. It would’ve been beyond earshot if she wasn’t such a sharp hunter. He’d failed to consider that.   
  
A frown creased her brow. Blue eyes drew narrow in confusion. Jaw tightened as she prepared to defend his honour if need be. Brienne was far too well accustomed to listening to the way he terrorised himself. She punched him in the shoulder and sent him staggering back with the blow. 

“You are the most important and essential ally that you could ever deem to have. Beating yourself up uses energy that you shouldn’t waste.” Her words were coarse and angry. Most would speak with sympathy for such self-criticism but Brienne couldn’t abide the way he treated himself when he was so extraordinary.

Genuine confusion washed over his expression. He rubbed at the already bruising flesh and took a step back towards her. She had never been so intensely genuine with him about anything. She exuded the same anger that had consumed her the night he had toyed with starving himself, the same fury at his failure to respect someone she cared for.

“We ought to seek audience with the Dragon Queen. If you would join me, I feel my knowledge of the capital might be invaluable to her forces.”   
  
_After it’s all over,_ he told himself, _she will know where my loyalties lie, if she doesn’t already._


End file.
